Messy.
Embarrassing.
Complicated.
Beautiful.
Waiting for me to stand up.
Daniel squeezed my hand.
“What are you thinking?”
I looked at him.
“That my sixty-second birthday was terrible.”
He laughed.
“It improved.”
“Eventually.”
“Would you change it?”
I thought about that.
If my children had called earlier, perhaps I would never have put on the green dress.
If I had stayed home, I would never have entered that bar.
If Daniel had told me the truth immediately, perhaps I would have walked away.
If Robert had been perfect, there would have been no storage unit.
No letters.
No lake house.
No Jonathan.
No bizarre second family assembled beneath strings of wedding lights.
Would I change it?
I looked toward the house.
At my daughter.
My son.
Jonathan.
Then at Daniel.
“No.”
He smiled.
“Not even the envelope?”
“Especially not the envelope.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“That envelope made you hate
